


Vulcan Make Outs and Awkward Admissions

by softcorevulcan



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cold Weather, Dubcon Kissing, Fluff, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hand & Finger Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slash, Vulcan Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 18:38:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8412172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softcorevulcan/pseuds/softcorevulcan
Summary: Spock gets stuck in a blizzard, Jim finds him and proceeds to mother hen like nobody's business. In the middle of all that, they share some awkward stories because Jim is desperate to keep Spock conscious until they can beam back aboard the Enterprise. (For the most part, what it says on the tin.)





	

When Jim finally beams down, the storm hasn’t let up much. There's curtains of snow blowing everywhere, and the coat he threw on before transporting is barely enough. He pushes forward through the hills of snow piled everywhere, toward the signal coming from Spock's communicator.

.

They'd beamed down several hours ago - himself, Spock, a few red shirts, and a science lieutenant named Martinez who had predicted the storm’s approach, at the time. The first few minutes, they had all tentatively split up. The weather had been breezy but nearly as warm as the ship, and the short yellow grass at their feet had been rustling gently from the wind. Jim and Spock had gone one way, his first officer informing him of the high habitability rating of the environment, and the likelihood that this planet, Antares II, was to have sentient life. In fact, it was just after his first officer had rattled out the statistics that animal life, indeed, made itself known.

A beast, like a Mammoth in size and hairiness but significantly more resembling a raccoon in the features department, had slid down a nearby cliff and resolutely decided to barrel toward them. Fast. So fast in fact, that it made Jim dive one way and Spock the other. From there it seemed to find Vulcan blood more intriguing, or some shit like that, because it slid across the ground as it turned 90 degrees and reached out for Spock.

And Jim was fucking helpless. He tried stunning the thing, but it was way too big. And moving. Spock was running off, like a smart motherfucker, and attempting to climb himself down the side of the cliff they were on. Jim heard the sound of a body and rocks sliding when the mammoth-raccoon thing threw itself down after Spock. Jim had rushed to the edge and looked down, phaser still out and tentatively switched to 'kill,' and saw Spock - thankfully - in one piece, sprinting away from the rock side and off toward what looked like a field of scattered boulders and cave openings. A good place to lose the big fucking persistent creature.

Jim would have scrambled after him, despite the fact the rock side looked smoother now with all the parts he would have grabbed to climb down strewn on the ground below, brushed off by the animal. He would have found a way down and distracted the monster anyway, weaved around and scooped up Spock, ordered a beam up to Scotty from his communicator once the chase stopped.  But he didn't get the chance.

As soon as Spock had started running off into the maze of massive rock bodies in the distance, the wind had picked up considerably and by the time Jim got to the cliff's edge and looked down, he was holding onto that edge to keep from being blown backwards. His communicator had chirped, and Martinez informed him a humongous fucking storm front was moving in - and the temperature was dropping extremely fast. She hadn't said it quite that way, but her tone thoroughly implied the storm was going to be life threatening if they didn't get the fuck away from it. He ordered the rest of the landing party to beam up, then glanced across the landscape to where Spock had disappeared.

At the very least, his first officer had some shelter from the wind while he was over there. Jim let a gust throw him back, away from the edge, and he positioned himself against one of the large rock walls from a cliff above, to keep himself in place. Once there, he had flipped open the communicator and shouted "Spock! Spock!" over the sound of the roaring wind. Spock, of course, hadn't fucking answered. He was probably still running.

Jim had huddled there for a moment, clung to the wall and braced against it, then he had heard a chirp faintly under the assault of wind, "Spock?"

"No Captain," came the answer from his chief engineer. "Lieutenant Uhura says communication is breaking up, gonna be lost soon." Jim's eyes were glued to the field of rocks and caverns in the distance. "If we're gonna bring you up, it'll have to be now, sir."

"Hold on a second," he'd replied, hanging up and attempting to reach Spock again. There was no answer. He signaled to Scotty again.

"How long is this storm going to cut us off from the planet?"

"Martinez says she isn't sure. Several hours, maybe. Not a whole day though. Should be able to continue the survey after." A pause, then, "Says temperature's dropping fast, that it'll be dangerous if you stay down there." And boy did Jim believe that, his teeth were chattering now, his ears stinging from sudden biting cold, the hand clutching the rock wall reddened and getting more numb by the second.   

"Lock on and beam me up, then."

"Aye sir," another pause. "Just you? What about Mr. Spock? He didn't come up with the others."

"I'll explain once I'm up there." And that had been that.

.

Several hours later - eight hours and twelve minutes later, to be precise - Uhura had informed him that the storm had lightened enough to allow for planet-side communication. Martinez had confirmed that the storm was on it's way out, and future weather on the beam down spot was predicted to be cold but much more like a sunny Iowa winter day then an Antarctic one.  Of course, not said in those exact words. So, eight hours and fifteen minutes after Jim beamed up, he beamed back down alone - not willing to risk the safety of any more crew members in this storm - with a nice insulated winter coat and a big thermal sleeping bag strapped to his back in case another storm snuck up on him.

.

So now he was stumbling through the snow dunes toward that fucking field of giant boulders, praying that his first officer was still nearby. Phaser in one hand, already prepared, just in case that big bastard that'd chased away his Vulcan hadn't cleared out by now. In the other hand, his communicator, which he kept flipping open to try to reach Spock.

There's so much snow, he doesn't even see footprints. There's no trace of giant raccoon shaped feet having stepped in the snow, when Jim gets into the forest of boulders, so he figures the animal is hopefully long gone. The snow, unfortunately, is still falling, in sheets, and he can't see much besides giant white covered rocks and blankets of snow all around his legs, so he really doubts he's going to find Spock by sight. He keeps trying to signal him. It doesn't help that he can hear interference when he opens up the comm. Jim can guess that he might lose communication again - with the ship, with potentially Spock. He can also guess, by the way the snow's coming down, that the temperature may be closer to a Midwest American Earth winter now, but the storm is still pretty blatantly a blizzard.

On one of his attempts, he thinks he imagines the sound of a labored breath, then he hears "Captain. Spock here."

And Jim's whole body lets go of a heap of tension. "Spock." He's already using the signal to pinpoint wherever the fuck Spock is huddled up waiting out this bitch of a storm.

"The weather is - extremely severe Captian. I lost - all contact - I assumed the survey team had beamed up in conjunction with the loss - because of the front moving in." Spock's voice is breaking up, signal coming in and out, Jim moves faster. "I did not think to look for you, Captain - assumed you had returned to the - with them."

Spock is King of I-Don't-Have-Emotions-Go-Fuck-Yourself, as far as appearances are concerned. But he sounds a little bit... pained. Both in physicality and emotionality.

"Don't feel guilty, Spock, you were being chased. And you assumed right - I was on the ship until it was safe enough to come back for you. I figured it's what you would have considered... most logical."

Spock doesn't have to say a thing, with just the breathing through the communicator, Jim can tell he's thinking 'fuck you that's not funny and I almost pity you it's such a bad joke'. But if Spock was actually planning on saying something, he doesn't get a chance to. Because the signal finally breaks up completely, and Jim is running through piles of snow toward a moderately sized cave opening that Spock's signal seemed to be in the direction of.

 

Turns out Spock isn't at the mouth, but he's only a couple dozen feet inside the cave, just around the first bend in the tunnel. That's right after the cave goes from roughly four meters in height to two meters, and Jim bends slightly before seeing Spock and rushing to his side. Spock is sitting against the wall, legs pulled to his chest, and no wind is reaching this far inside. Jim squats in front of his first officer, who has his head face down resting on his arms, communicator clutched in one tight fist against his cheek. Spock is shivering, the points of his ears green and frozen, the portions of his face visible equally green next to his fingers. Like pine trees covered in frost. Jim leans forward and rubs Spock's shoulders and arms up and down - shaking him into alertness and trying to warm him up at the same time. Jim feels desperate at the sight of Spock shaking so much, the tremors violent, it freaks him out. "Spock."

Spock looks up, meeting his eyes, and his lips twitch infinitesimally. Then they straighten out, and Spock looks kind of, barely visible but entirely, pissed. Then his first officer looks him up and down, and the tenseness of his expression evaporates, "You came prepared."

Spock doesn't 'feel a damn thing' - he claims - but Jim knows that Spock is pleasantly relieved, the same way Jim knows he's got two hands and ten fingers. Everyone swears more in his own mind, Jim thinks, but then maybe he just surrounds himself with too many people who understate shit.

Jim nods, grin spreading over his face infectiously at the fact Spock is still talking playfully, still probably alright, then. He quickly glances around, notices Spock has some roots in a pile to the left of him, further into the cave, that he must have ripped out of a rock face somewhere and brought with him. As Jim unpacks his sleeping bag and pulls it apart to wrap it around Spock's shoulders, tucking it around Spock's' sides, he asks, "Were you trying to start a fire?"

Spock gives a small nod in affirmative, still convulsing a worrying amount. "I could not find adequate means to ignite it."

Jim nods back, scooting closer, on his knees now instead of squatting, mentally cursing Spock's luck, then suddenly, "What about your phaser?"

"I lost it, in the confrontation with the creature -"

"Of course you did," Jim mumbles, and Spock looks affronted - not visibly of course, but Jim can tell how Spock's feeling just cause it's Spock, and he knows Spock... even if probably most of it is just Jim blindly making assumptions based off of nothing. Jim thinks Spock is affronted, and a bit scandalized that Jim's not giving him a chance to explain.

But internally, privately to himself, Jim is still kind of terrified by how much Spock is shaking, and how exhausted he looks, and would much rather piss his first officer off a little then let Spock push himself harder. "Spock, if you're up for it, could you try to contact the ship?" he says in his order giving voice, and as Spock gives a curt - but incredibly jittery - nod, Jim adjusts the blanket of the sleeping bag a bit more around Spock, then moves to stand. "I'm going to start us a little campfire."

Spock, with jerky motions, fiddles with the communicator in his green knuckled fist, and as he repeats the same message over and over, voice clear despite the shakiness of his head and arms and body, Jim pulls the roots over to the center of their little enclave. He yanks at some medium sized stones stuck in the dirt along the walls and pushes them until they join the roots in the pile. He'd discarded his communicator and phaser on the floor when he'd seen Spock, dropping them to grab him instead, and now he picks them back up. He pockets his own comm, and uses the phaser to warm up the pile and create a makeshift space heater for them, before putting the phaser away as well and kneeling in front of Spock again, lightly pushing his Vulcan until they're both a warm but safe distance from the heat.

As Jim starts removing his coat, thinking he'll make Spock put it on since the guy obviously needs the warmth more, Spock updates him on the bigger picture. "I have not been able to reach the ship since I awoke. If you have lost contact as well, it is likely that we will not be able to reach the Enterprise again until the blizzard stops. I am not at present receiving a signal. We are cut off completely, for the moment." The whole time he speaks, Jim can see Spock desperately controlling his physical reactions just to keep his voice clear and his teeth from chattering.

It's cold now, but it's more like a frosty Midwest autumn now. Jim's in no danger from the cold at present, but Spock still silently seems to be indicating that he thinks it's bullshit that Jim is trying to give him the coat. Spock is the only person Jim knows, yes the only person - not even Bones wins at this, that is actually more stubborn then Jim himself. Stubborn, and stupid, and immovable, and ridiculous, and this is exactly why in critical fucking situations in the past Jim has had to pick fights with Spock to get things done.

"You're putting on this coat." Jim says, in a voice a bit lower than his captain-y authoritative one, hoping he sounds the way parents do who need to be obeyed because they're literally telling you not to touch a burning hot pan. But, like, the opposite of that heat situation. Equally dangerous, in Jim's opinion. He's begging the universe, internally, that Spock for once does not fucking argue right now, especially because there's really no point in it this time. But that hasn't always stopped Spock in the past. For a 'logical' guy, he's not always what Jim would consider rational. Of course, Spock would doubtless argue that they do not always rationalize things in similar ways, though both of their methods have reached arguably accurate results.

Spock, gratefully, seems to agree with Jim's rationale today without needing to question it, and acquiesces, taking the coat with unsteady fingers and slowly shrugging the warm blanket away to pull it on. Slowly, not because he wants to, Jim thinks, but because he literally can't move that fast right now without trembling gratuitously. Jim winces. As soon as Spock has himself in the jacket, his captain leans forward and zips it up for him.

Immediately after, Jim is scooting closer until they're both side by side, half leaned into each other and half facing the warmth, wrapping the blanket around both of them until it closes at their front.

It's quiet, then, for while. Jim is trying to put his whole side against Spock, can feel that Spock is obviously shaking a bit less now that he's bundled up around a source of heat and with a warm body pressed against him. It makes Jim almost brave enough to relax a little. He'd be really pissed if he lost his first officer over something as minor as a little extreme temperature exposure. He knows Spock raises an eyebrow - on a shaking body, so it barely even looks like an eyebrow raise so much as one of many tiny face twitches - and he's glad that's all Spock's got as far as a reaction to all the mother henning Jim knows he's doing. He can't help it. Anyone would mother hen like a champion if they were trying to keep Spock warm and safe and whole and better. That endearingly annoying personality is too precious to not feel desperate to want back over shaky unwellness.

God, Jim feels like a sap. Oh well. He's got a hand over Spock's before he's even thinking about it, rubbing over the fingers and trying to scare the green tinge away through sheer force of will. Jim puts his hand over on the one Spock has holding his communicator, and takes the comm from him, setting it in front of them, before trying to rub warmth into those icicle fingers too. Jim is trying not to be too frantic about it, and hopes the slightly bigger twitch Spock made was because of Jim and not because he's freezing to death. "In a little while we'll try the ship again. For now let's work on getting you warmed up."

Spock opens his mouth like a fish, ready to say something snarky and unnecessary, surely, because Jim is not in the mood at all for dissent and that's when Spock tends to dish it out the most. But when Jim looks at him meaningfully, it seems Spock decides he's not cruel enough to fuck with Jim's fragile emotional strength right now and just accepts the situation, as he fucking should.

So Jim pulls Spock's hands together, until they're in between both of them, in the dead center of the warmth of their little cocoon, and keeps rubbing his body heat into them, Jim feeling the tiniest surge of relief each time the hands feel a bit more lukewarm and a bit less like ice. "Can you feel your fingers, Spock?"

It's quiet for two seconds, then Spock replies, "A bit, now, Captain. There is still a degree of numbness, but it is dissipating." Jim constantly curses the fact Spock is so damn stoic and private, and that his fucking first officer probably wouldn't even have mentioned the numbness if Jim wasn't holding his hands and warming them and demanding answers less than a foot from his face and glaring concern at him.

A few minutes go by like this. With Jim rubbing circles over and between Spock's too green fingers and palms, constantly gauging the heat of them, until Jim looks up at Spock's face, decides those cold looking ears of Spock's still look horribly exposed.

.

Spock's contemplating Jim, and the warm rock and root pile, silently, shaking in constant small vibrations, as Jim pulls the blanket up more until it's over their heads slightly so there's just that bit more heat around them. He raises an eyebrow, steadier now than before, now that the shaking is reduced by all the heat around him, when Jim lifts his hands and puts them on his ears instead of his hands. Spock resists jerking at the hot touch, at the fact his ears sting because they're so utterly cold in comparison.

Jim's immediately massaging warmth into those points now, then the rest of his ears, and then his cheeks and jaw slightly - just flittering by meld points he probably doesn't realize are so close to his fingers - then going back to massaging his ears, which are most definitely colder than the rest of his head anyway.

His captain is wearing the most curious mixture of intense concern and fond pleasure. The heat sinks in through his skin, not just physically but mentally as Spock feels all that concern and care radiate into him. Like Jim's an extension of the sun, of the heated rocks and roots in front of them. Jim Kirk, his personal source of warmth.

Spock can feel his cheeks again, a bit, can feel that some of the blood there is because of how cold he was, and some is there because Jim's care is making him feel incredibly emotionally touched. "Why are you smiling?" Spock asks, quiet in the space of the cavern they occupy, a breath away from Jim's face and infectious gentle grin.

Jim shakes his head in a small motion, still smiling, still pushing warmth around his ears and into his skin, looking content. Perhaps, also, the tiniest bit sheepish. Spock does not think Jim knows he's showing any indication of self consciousness at all. "It's just," Jim is quiet too, intimate. Because of the space they occupy so close together, the warmth they're engulfed in, the concern he's feeling that makes him talk like he's at someone's side in sick bay - this is what Spock thinks is the cause for such a tone. Spock could be wrong. He is not the best at reading the emotions humans display, even worse still at reading the emotions humans choose to try to conceal, despite all his time living and serving with them. "It's just, you know, the ears."

Spock doesn't even have to change his expression to let his captain know he is dubious and confused as to why Jim Kirk has said ears in a different inflection. Jim truly is an observant and knowledgeable friend.

"They really are..." the rubbing does not stop, Spock thinks his ears have regained most of their feeling now, since the stinging is gone. "I just. I feel bad that in a way I'm happy I got an excuse to touch them. I've always kind of wanted to." More quiet, more rubbing. It's affectionate. "Those uh, other species are totally right you know. They're pretty cool, pointy ears."

Spock, as is a usual experience around his captain, cannot really make sense of exactly what Jim is trying to say through his obfuscated word choices. He hopes one day Kirk will take the hint and try to be more precise around him, but part of him is sure the Captain does this frustrating speech style just to annoy him, because the Captain finds it humorous to confuse him. Never mind that making sure your first officer understands you should surely be one of the main priorities of a conventionally good captain.

Not much conventional about Jim though, who appears pleased at the fact Spock has not responded to that convoluted mess of a response to his question. Then a flash of concern, only for a second, washes over Jim's face, and Spock knows he ought to say something at least to reassure Jim that the silence is not due to his currently diminished condition. "Are you referring... to the fact many species find Vulcan ears attractive?"

Jim's face, Spock would argue, flushes just a bit more than it already had been within the warm space around them. "Yeah, so maybe I've got a tiny fetish for those pointy ears of yours," Jim lifts his eyebrows, maintains an easy smile. "I'm definitely not the only person in this universe who does."

Spock can feel his mouth quirk up slightly, appreciates Jim's human need to fill up uncomfortable silence and situations with humor and tenderness. It certainly distracts from the coldness still shaking his control, certainly warms him on the inside while Jim's fingers work him on the outside.

Jim, indeed, seems pleased in return that Spock is pleased, and his projected smile becomes a more gentle genuine one as he absentmindedly slides his hands down from Spock's now lukewarm ears to his moderately chilled jaw and neck, down his jacket encased arms and back to his fingers, where he begins rubbing and stroking them once more. Spock tenses and makes sure he doesn't react physically again, certain Jim has no idea how that feels now that sensation has returned there.

.

"Hey Spock..." Jim starts, still unnecessarily concerned with how cold Spock his, how his hands are still a light soft green and shaking slightly. He tightens his grip on them, making them steady, still massaging, satisfied that they no longer feel frozen at least. "Can I ask why you and Uhura broke up?" He knows he maybe looks a bit contemplative, a bit serious, but mostly it's cause Spock is cold and he's worried. And mostly, he's only asking this shit cause he knows Spock was nearly asleep earlier, during some of the storm, and Jim doesn't think it's probably a good idea to let Spock be quiet long enough to drift off again. Something scares him about a situation where Spock wouldn't be able to keep him updated on the status of his current health.

Spock, like the angel he is despite appearances, humors Jim even though he's got no logical basis to determine why Jim is being so personal. Spock lets a breath out, only minimally shaky, expression indicating the barest of confusion, then says, "We terminated our relationship because we found ourselves mutually incompatible romantically. A reason many relationships are ended, ours included."

It's hard to tell, because Spock is always so deadpan, but he sounds as unaffected as before Jim asked, so Jim supposes that maybe that means the relationship ended amicably. He still feels like having it clarified, "So you two are still friends?"

"Of course," Spock replies, as if it is an obvious answer. He doesn't sound snarky in the least. Jim's maybe a little, tiny bit, worried that Spock is drifting off into his own head or into unconsciousness. He sounds too mellow for Jim's liking, it's pleasant, but kind of freaking him mildly out. He wants to stir Spock up, make him feel, make him let Jim know he's still fully okay, that he's going to be okay. Maybe Jim's a little bit needy, and maybe Spock is acting pretty normal for Spock after all, it's not like any other person would be over-analyzing all of Spock's-not-reactions like this. But Jim trusts his intuition, and his intuition tells him to keep Spock engaged right now.

He's stroking Spock's fingers, over them and between them, hardly green anymore, contemplating how fascinating it is that Vulcan blood is green instead of red. "Say... Spock?" Jim's looking down at Spock's long slender fingers, his big palms, stroking and still getting immense relief every time he registers how much warmer those hands feel now compared to when he first grabbed them in this cave. "Was Uhura your first kiss?"

There's a companionable silence, between them, and Jim scoots them both a little closer to the makeshift heater in the center of the cavern. Jim looks up at Spock, those brown eyes watching him intently. "I'll tell you how many people I've kissed."

At this Spock's expression shifts, the slightest sign he's curious of the answer. Good, he's still focused. Aware. "Okay let's see..." Jim starts, silently mouthing the numbers as he counts, tapping a few of his fingers on Spock's as he ticks them off in his head. "Okay, only counting people I've kissed romantically - not because I needed to for a mission -" Jim blathers, taking Spock's not-expression of humor at already making exceptions in stride, "About seventeen." Three kids in Middle School, one was a crush and one was a dare at a friend's house. Four people in High School, only two of which he actually bothered dating. Six at the academy - Uhura included, although she was drunk and it was only a peck and there'd been other girls there he'd properly made out with, and he's sure it was only romantic on his end. And four people since he's been captain, random one offs from odd nights at bars and even odder timed hook ups. He's not counting bizarre mission seductions, of course. That's a whole other ballpark of weird lip touching and word rambling. He can't stop looking at Spock's lips, flushed with forest green, still probably cold, how he can't do anything really to warm them up without blatantly obviously invading Spock's personal space. More than casually. He could warm up Spock's lips with his hands, but he thinks that wouldn't actually go over well at all. Spock has already jerked a few times at the fact Jim's been rubbing his hands, and they're only his hands. "Want to make sure you don't lose your hands, you know," Jim mutters.

And Spock is still humoring him, bless him, because he doesn't comment on Jim being an utterly ridiculous man. The silence also worries him a bit too, though. "Indeed, I would like to keep my hands. I would not enjoy having to get mechanical replacements," and Jim straight up cackles, cause Spock's humor is more comforting then silence by light years. It's maybe Jim's absolute favorite thing in the all of existence, right now.

He rubs Spock's two hands between his vigorously, cause he's still holding his hands and he doesn't want to let go to rub Spock's upper arms like he normally would. Besides, they're sitting all wrong for that. "So! How many people have you kissed, Mister Spock?" He's teasing a little, he knows he is. But he's happy, and Spock smiling just slightly, barely, is all the signal Kirk needs to know his first officer doesn't really mind in the slightest.

Spock looks considering. "How romantic must the contact and intent be?"

Jim's eyes are dancing with mirth. "Oh, it can be one sided. I counted one sided kisses." Spock gives him a look at that, intensely stimulating but Jim can't exactly put his finger on why the gaze hits him so strongly. He keeps rubbing circles into the top of Spock's hands, urging the lukewarmness to transform into what Jim knows should be significantly hotter when healthy.

Spock breathes out, his way of pausing or sighing or communicating something to that effect, as he makes his own mental calculations. "If I am to count any type of romantically intended kiss, then as of now I have kissed six people." Spock is looking away from Jim, down at their hands, appearing nonchalant. Which Jim does not buy for a minute, but lets slide. Spock wears not-embarrassment very cutely - he kind of wished Spock blushed like other people though.

Jim decides its too enjoyable to not tease him a little more. Leaning forward, squeezing Spock's hands before pulling them apart and holding one hand instead to properly rub it warm on both sides, he chuckles. As soon as Spock glances up at him, startled by the noise, he starts, "Kissing your mom doesn't count, you know."

Spock looks properly offended, and that's adorable. He also looks just the barest bit weary, and Jim controls the urge to cringe, because he hates reminding Spock of when Jim said shitty things to manipulate him. "Captain," Spock starts back, using the title to carry the tone of annoyance, "My mother is most certainly not within that category," he throws in a silent 'how dare you' with the look he's giving Jim. He's also looking at Jim like he's some poor unintelligent embarrassment, and Jim is actually not entirely sure that's not Spock's honest opinion of Jim constantly.

"I'm just messing with ya buddy," Jim's smiling so hard his jaw aches, and he tones it down. It's all Spock's fault, always so stimulating even when he's not doing anything except tolerating him. "Okay then... so out of all those people, how many did you properly make out with?" He says 'make out' with a lilt, and a stare into Spock's eyes that is daring him to be fucking difficult right now. Spock loves to bitch about how Jim talks. Like Spock hasn't been living with humans for years, including his damn childhood, and doesn't know by now exactly how to translate Jim's words into Spock-speak.

Spock stares at him dubiously, then considers Jim's hands around his own again. Jim notices Spock's other hand is tight, clenching slightly and unclenching, and so Jim scoops that hand again too so he can rub them both again, separately this time. Besides, the hold on Spock's hands - holding Spock's hands like a schoolgirl - gives him an excuse to keep looking at Spock so close up. After all, it's not like he can lean very far away without moving Spock's poor cold hands from between the two of them - so better keep leaning right up against them, hands warmly bracketed between them, and face happily close enough that Jim could lean his own head against Spock's cushy coat covered shoulder if he felt like it.

But he'd rather stare at Spock as he talks then lean on him. "By 'making out,' you mean kissing for more than a brief instance, in this case?"

Jim rolls his eyes, still smiling. "For this case... let's say, yes. Any kissing that was longer than a few seconds." He's looking at Spock unblinkingly, waiting for the answer now, on the edge of his seat - mentally.

He's kind of excited actually. He was surprised Spock's number was so high, to be honest. Not that Jim thinks his own number is that high in comparison - seventeen really isn't nearly as much as some people would like to insinuate considering the reputation people have made about him. But like, six for Spock? He'd always thought Spock was, well, a bit more reserved. And if baby Vulcans acted like adult Vulcans, well then, surely little Vulcans didn't go around smooching their classmate crushes the way Jim had. Oh man, and Spock at the Academy... he'd been a Professor! He'd probably flown through his classes as a cadet as fast as Jim, surely he wasn't hooking up all the time back then, right? Too busy with classes, right? Then, as a teacher, no way Spock would have been so unprofessional as to be fucking around with one night stands? Right?

Jim felt like he was seeing Spock in a whole new light, his thoughts making himself so momentarily embarrassed he was the one looking down at their hands now, absentmindedly tracing Spock's life and heart lines on his palm. Maybe, Spock, was like, a freak? I mean sure he hadn't been as indiscriminate as Jim himself, but - but he probably just didn't get crushes as often. But Spock actually... probably wasn't the pure pillar Kirk liked to imagine him as. The guy snagged a girlfriend who was his student! While she was his student, probably! What the fuck ever about power imbalance concerns and people making unsavory assumptions! Even Jim wouldn't have actually acted on a crush if that were the situation - he knows he wouldn't, cause he sure as hell wouldn't date or hook up or even kiss a severely subordinate crew member on the Enterprise. He'd say _any_ crew member... but ah, if the right situation presented itself... well. Anyway. Suffice to say, he wouldn't put an ensign or yeoman in the uncomfortable position of feeling like they were obligated to reciprocate any feelings.

Jim belatedly wondered what Spock's actual opinion on power imbalances was, then. Because apparently they hadn't really been a deciding factor last time Spock got into a relationship. The mental image of a Professor Spock, dressed up in all black, taking one off hook up strangers into his office and nailing them on an immaculately organized desk danced in Kirk's head uncontrollably. Spock began to answer, then, staring a hole into the place where he looked at Jim's face, like he could see the image inside his brain written there plain as day. "Four times."

"Four times?" Jim repeated, kind of dazed, meeting Spock's eyes.

One eyebrow gently bent, "I have kissed four people romantically for an extended period. Of course, I did kiss some of those people more then once," Spock changed his voice for the second comment, the voice he used to subtly insult Jim's intelligence the way friends do. Jim loves that voice.

"Of course," Jim repeated, looking intensely diplomatic and agreeable. Spock's hands were still pliant in his own, relaxed, no longer shaking. Jim kept petting them absently, too relieved to really be motivated to let go. Spock was barely shaking now, just tiny tremors, just occasionally. But still too much to be emotional reactions of any uncontrollable sort - besides if they were emotional, Spock would have reigned them in - so Spock was still suffering a bit from the circumstances. Well then, Jim would keep on keeping him warm. His duty as Captain, of course.

Jim leaned in, breathing warm over each of Spock's ears one at a time, intentionally, then leaned back, picked up each one of Spock's hands in turn and did the same. It's how he would have warmed up his own hands, after all. And he kind of was still pissed off by how green tinted they were, how much they maintained lukewarm status when really they should be as warm as concrete in the summer sun by now - Spock's more appropriate healthy norm.

Spock looked indescribably affected by his actions but Jim just brushed the shocked stare off, continuing to blow warm air over the fingers cradled in his grip before finally going back to their fun bizarre little discussion. "I gotta know who you made out with! Four people! Obviously Uhura's one, I've literally seen you make out with her! But who are the other lucky bastards?" Jim quirked his own eyebrow at Spock, still ignoring the flabbergasted look in his Vulcan's eyes.

Spock seemed to school his features slightly, and loosened up from the tenseness he'd had at the whole breathing-on-him thing, since he seemed to think that particularly blatant assault of his personal space was over, and simply intoned, "Lucky?"

"Of course," okay, so maybe Jim was over-killing that line a little, tiny bit. He inclined his head, "You know you're gorgeous. I'm sure everyone you kissed thought so too."

"Mm."

Yes, totally the most gorgeous annoying emotional logical funny Vulcan to ever live, Jim privately complemented in his own mind. Spock was looking down at his hands again, neck the only thing still tense, probably about the whole breathing-on-him thing. "Sooo? Tell me the details!"

Spock looked up at him, eyes dancing with blatant exasperation, but otherwise completely sculpted into a mask. "There is no reason for me to go into detail."

Jim rolled his eyes, sighing loudly just so he could bask in the near-emoting he knows Spock does when Jim's displays are 'excessive and unnecessary'. "There's no point in specifically talking about it - true. But the reason to go into detail is the same reason we are talking about it. Because it's keeping you awake," he cut off Spock before the guy could barge in with some retort of him being 'completely in control of himself and not requiring any stimuli to remain so', "And. Because I wanna know. And I'm your friend. Friends talk about stuff like this. So talk to me about it." Okay, maybe he was whining, a little bit. Whatever it takes to make Spock do what he wants, honestly.

So following that little plea, Jim decides to start stroking Spock's fingers. Cause they're shaped nice, and they give Jim's hands something to do so he doesn't do something crazy like try to full body cradle Spock in his arms, and it's a nice opener to massage them more thoroughly. And the tension in Spock's neck goes away when he does it - maybe cause Jim can't breathe on Spock's hands when he's using his own fingers so much - and includes the added benefit of miraculously making Spock slightly unfocused. Unfocused enough, anyway, to keep giving that slight closed almost-smile and humor him with the subject matter.

"It would hardly be practical to discuss every 'make out' I've ever had in detail." Spock is smirking at him, in that not-actually-quite way, glancing at him under his lashes as he says it, before drifting back to leisurely contemplate their hands. Smart ass.

Jim takes exactly eight seconds, and he knows cause he counts it, to remove one hand from the weird double hand holding he's been maintaining and the blanket cocoon to grab the phaser and reheat their pile of warm debris. Once the makeshift space heater is recharged, he quickly sets the phaser down in front of them, pulls the blanket back closed and resumes his very friendly, of course, hand holding. Every time Jim thinks 'of course,' it's in his command voice.  

He starts petting Spock's hands again, gently squeezing each finger and pushing into the palm in an earnest attempt to work every iota of tension and coldness out of them. "That's true, Mister Spock," that earns him another barely-there smirk of amusement for a moment, "Okay then, let's specify the parameters..."

Jim takes a short moment to think, and another very small one to remember an equal example of his own so that Spock gets some embarrassing material back as a reward for being honest about this kind of bullshit. "Okay, I want to know about a make out you had that was awkward. I know you've got to have had a few awkward kisses, you're Spock."

He kind of expects Spock to be almost-affronted, since Spock is a gorgeous beautifully built man who is smart enough to be self aware about it. Since Spock, also, while maybe being a bit uncompromising and confrontational (to Jim at least), is remarkably enjoyable company in everyday life. But Spock surprisingly doesn't react in the slightest - which bugs Jim to no end, because usually he can perceive how Spock's feeling even when he's not really showing it at all - right now it's so non-existent there's not even anything to guess about. He's ready to fill up his own self created awkward silence, which is probably only awkward to himself, since he's as usual the only one bothered by Spock's lack of emoting. "When I was at the Academy," Jim starts, satisfied, finally, that Spock reacts, eyes moving from their entwined hands to Jim's face.

That's a movement Jim knows, Spock's curious. "I was seeing this girl, and we were in the middle of -" Jim's deciding to censor it a bit, as he goes, because he doesn't really want Spock to think Jim expects a full frontal description when it's his turn to share. Although - Jim is really fucking curious about Spock's professor days, he worked himself up and now he's kind of desperate to know if Professor Spock ever actually did anything intimate in a professional place... or like, role-played. Except it wasn't acting it was just straight up being his Professor self to the absolutely smitten woman, or man, or person, or alien. Maybe Spock has a secret kink for being told what to do, and he'd play the student in his own Professor-y office with whoever was lucky enough to get invited to do the horizontal dance on the desk with him. Jim gulped, pushing those kind of thoughts away since, yeah, he was supposed to be talking. "Uh. In her room, we were getting all into each other, then guess who prances into the room?" He pauses for a moment to add to the drama,"Uhura! So in strolls Uhura and I still have a crush on her cause - of course Uhura's _Uhura_ , but I'm in the middle of making out with apparently her roommate! So I duck and cover, man. I literally leap away and I'm rolling under the bed and man, my clothes are already gone -" Too late now, might as well commit to the truth, "Well, most of them, and I'm trying to be all quiet under this damn bed. And bless Ga- the girl, cause she pretends she was just you know, lounging, like I'm not there. And so I'm inches away from escaping the embarrassment of being caught half naked making out with the roommate of the girl I've been asking out for like months at this point, just to be annoying at this point -"

At this part of the story, Spock's engrossed, but grips one of Kirk's hands to slow him the fuck down so Spock can comment. "The girl you were asking out repeatedly, was Uhura?" Jim nods. "So the woman you were kissing in this event, was not someone you were dating?"

Jim nods again. He takes the silence that follows as confirmation that Spock needs no further clarification. "So, I'm under the bed right?" Spock seems just this side of puzzled that Jim is even asking, which Jim finds equal parts amusing and endearing, as he continues plundering through the telling of his tale. "And Uhura hears. Me. Breathing." He pauses again, and Spock's expression is one of understanding for Uhura's plight. Without saying anything or moving a muscle on his currently green flushed face, Spock can communicate that he indeed also feels Kirk is regrettably loud, easy to identify from just the sound of his breathing, and also an unsurprising person to find hiding under a bed in one's room. "So that's it," Jim finishes, "I'm done for, caught, found out. And I get forced to shame walk out of there with Uhura glaring me down and still half naked, cause a girl like her doesn't just let you stop and put your pants back on."

Spock tilts his head just slightly, in agreement, as he in fact surely knows the kind of woman Uhura is. He's also grinning a little, the smile lighting up his eyes most of all - Spock is basically laughing at him. Which, Jim supposes, is the whole point in telling Spock in the first place. And so he's quite pleased, all warm and fuzzy inside over the fact he can make his Vulcan first officer effected so.

Spock's palms are pretty warm now - although not as warm as they should be, not as warm as a Vulcan's palms are ideally. But they're definitely what one would consider warm. Kirk doesn't let go though, doesn't think he will until he has to. Besides, Spock's fingers are still worryingly cool even compared to a human, so he keeps massaging them. He's inexplicably touched, even now, that Spock squeezed his hand to get his attention during the story, and so he just squeezes Spock's hands for no good reason before continuing.

"Okay buddy, now it's totally your turn to admit a blackmail worthy kiss you had!" Spock looks slightly less pleased and a tad more annoyed for a second, then goes back to that almost-smirk, letting Jim know ultimately he finds him more enjoyable than aggravating for the moment. "Ever-" But Spock opens his mouth up to speak - lips still that shade of green that worries Jim - so Jim shuts his own mouth and waits.

But Spock's quiet too, like he's reconsidering which information to admit to, back to contemplating their hands instead of Jim's face. Jim squeezes, hoping that'll get his attention back. It doesn't. Spock is, of course, an immovable object when he wants to be, and Spock's only going to start talking when he good and well feels like it. Thankfully, that doesn't take long. "Perhaps... I will tell you about a time I made out with someone unexpectedly."

Jim is so damn curious, so damn into this cuddling by the campfire story time they're having, and he squeezes Spock's hands again as he brings them together to hold them as one again. He doesn't even blink until Spock tilts his head up to look at Jim and begins to speak.  

"I was in my second semester of my first year at the Academy. I had decided to go to a bar called Apple's Eye because -"

Jim stares him down, shaking their conglomerate of hands momentarily, "Skip the situational details Spock! Get to the point, talk about the kissing!"

Spock's eyebrows form a line of annoyance at him, nevertheless Spock decides to obey the demand. "I was standing beside the bar, reaffirming yet again that alcohol isn't sufficiently worthwhile for my consumption, when a man approached me and grabbed my shoulders. He was likely, also, a cadet at Starfleet, dressed in the same style of red uniform that I wore. He was considerably more inebriated than myself," Spock looked almost-jealous as he said that,"He said to me,'you're breathtaking,' and then proceeded to literally attempt to steal my breath."

Kirk can't help it, he giggles. Spock's trying to sound so clinical, even though he's delivering every word in that intimate mirth stained tone he uses when they're throwing comments at each other on the bridge, and Jim is sure Spock is going to be pleased as peaches that his story's having its desired effect. Jim is proved right when he gets a little tiny not-quite-there smile from Spock as he settles back down.

Jim gives the hands between his own another squeeze, before tracing absent circles and stroking,"What happened next?"

Spock seems momentarily... shocked can't be the right word for what he's almost-but-not-really-emoting, but the flare of expression is gone before Kirk can actually deduce anything beyond his own initial impression. Spock is talking again, almost-smiling again, and Jim's enraptured. "Well. He pulled me into the crowd of bodies on the dance floor. Still attached to my mouth, of course. And at first I was at a loss because it was so sudden." Another pause, and Jim is dying here. Jim is dying, wants to know if Spock hit the guy or nerve-pinched him, or ended up having intense semi-public wall sex outside this 'Apple's Eye' place. They were supposed to be talking about 'romantic' kisses, so Jim fucking hoped Spock was actually following the rules and discussing a kiss he'd found romantic.

This was such a bizarre situation, them in this cave telling make out stories. Jim loved it a little, especially now that Spock felt like he wasn't going to die of cold. No way Spock still felt totally fucked up if he was getting so into keeping Jim in suspense. He squeezed the hands again and shook Spock's arms a little. "You're killing me, Spock."

Spock looked severely dubious of that entire claim.

"Just tell me," Jim whined.

"His arms and hips were... pleasing, so I grabbed them. He was quite proficient with his tongue so... I allowed him to continue. We had a gratifying... interval of connection, swaying on the crowded dance floor for the remainder of the song that was playing."

Jim made a choked little noise. Leave it to Spock, fucking 'gratifying' kiss. Gratifying. When they get back up to the Enterprise, at some point Jim is going to mention this little excursion of theirs and Spock is going to say 'Yes, sharing friendly stories with you was somewhat gratifying'. Jim would bet on some variation of that bullshit sentence being said in his future, he's so sure.

"He was quite... receptive. So we continued to 'make out' off the dance floor once the song had concluded," Spock seems lost in the memory of the event, looking just barely pleased and although part of Jim is implicitly happy because Spock is happy, another tiny part of him is kind of, well, inexplicably bothered. "This is when the situation became, like your own, somewhat troublesome. The man I had been enjoying the company of" - enjoying the company of, Jim might have to consider that Spock is in fact just as much of a freak as himself, making out with strangers in bars without even the preface of a proposition, even Jim would have hit on someone a bit more before locking lips, but whatever - "apparently had not originally arrived at the bar alone."

Spock met Jim's eyes for a beat, then his gaze slipped back down to look at their hands, and then to the pile of heated rubble in front of them,"The man I was with had been... receptive to further activity-"

"What the fuck does that even mean, Spock?"

"We were somewhat past simply interacting with each other's lips-"

"Is this your roundabout way of saying you were groping each other?" Jim was grinning so hard it ached, eyes bright with excitement.

"Clothes were on the way to being removed, his pants were undone-"

"You're telling me, in a crowded bar, you were undressing the guy?!"

"He had... touched me immodestly in the region of-"

"Immodestly!" Jim laughed.

"The man had shown a desire to be touched, saw no qualms with touching others there, and I was of a similar mindset," Spock huffed.

"Of a similar mindset?" Jim repeated, full of faux innocence.

Spock looked miles past exasperated with Jim. "I was also amenable to greater physical intimacy at that time."

Jim's smile was painful, at this point. Spock sounded so utterly uniquely himself, talking about making out without using any normal goddamn words to describe it. "You were horny and decided 'why the fuck not'?" Jim attempted to clarify.

"That is, mostly, what I am attempting to convey to you right now."   

"Mostly?" Jim smirked, squeezing Spock's hands, choking back more laughter. Being around Spock just tickled his funny bone. Especially when the man circumvented things that made him emotionally uncomfortable.

Spock almost-twitched, something Jim took note of since the shaking had subsided mostly around the end of Jim's own voiced recollection. Jim buzzed with worry at the sight of it, then when no other sudden tremors followed and Spock's expression resolutely remained at 'I'm so tired of you bugging me, but I enjoy it enough that I'm still playing this game with you,' Jim let the worry wash away. Whatever made Spock almost jerk must've been contextual to their discussion, and momentary, not anything to do with his health. And that was okay, as long as Spock was okay, everything was hunky dory.

"I had initially chosen to go to the bar that night to see for myself what the other cadets found so stimulating about it. Considering that goal, I was open to the concept of experiencing whatever enjoyable or beneficial events that would have presented themselves to me."

"So if someone had propositioned you for an orgy that night, you would have fucking gone for it?" Jim asked, half incredulous and half literally combusting inside with the thought that Spock might say 'yes'. What a wild Vulcan Spock was in his first year, Jim thought. If Jim had been a few years older he could have had a wildly different first meeting with the guy, apparently. Before Spock could actually answer, he followed up with, "So was it only that night that you were 'amenable' to getting picked up by a stranger? Or did you go to bars and places a lot with that kind of carpe diem mentality?" Jim's mind was going miles per second, trying to coalesce the kind of strict logic abidng Commander that Spock unarguably is, with this new version of him that's up for trying new things with frisky humans when he thinks they're suitably hot and he feels suitably horny. The idea of Professor Spock getting with Miss Cadet Uhura seems a lot less contradicting at the moment. "So how often were you 'suitably horny' at the Academy, that you were down to fuck anyone that propositioned you?"

Spock was looking at him like he'd grown two additional heads, which was fair. That last question was maybe, a little bit, too personal. If anyone else were regarding him the way Spock was right now, their eyes would be bulging out of their skulls.

When Spock finally spoke again, he looked like all he really wanted to say was 'I most certainly do not fuck just anyone'. Spock's first actual statement in response, was in fact a sigh. A real, humanly drawn out, sigh. He wanted Jim to know exactly how tired of his bullshit he was. "That particular night," the way he said particular was very pointed,"I had been... exhausted with humans presuming things of me and not engaging with me in the slightest when it came to cultural differences and misunderstandings."

Jim wasn't laughing anymore, he could feel the gravitas of what Spock was trying to show him. Jim was back to gentle smiles, stroking the hands cradled between his again. "In my exasperation I had decided to attempt to discover what my fellow classmates had been discussing around me, but not to me. So I behaved impulsively. It seemed logical that at some point, I attempted to embrace the behavior of my peers so that perhaps I could finally reach a better understanding of their viewpoints, since they were adamant to not simply clarify it to me through straightforward discussion.”

Jim gave a small nod. "You didn't get all the pleasure obsessed consequence-be-damned classmates of yours, so you got fed up and went out to see if doing it their way would make sense out of it."

Spock let himself stroke one of Jim's hands back, then met Jim's eyes with his own. He looked calm now, like he was warming back up to being amused again. "Indeed."

"And how did that turn out for ya, Mister Spock?"

A little upturn on one side of Spock's lips made Jim feel dizzy in the best possible way. "I was well on my way to having an enjoyable evening. But the man's apparent lover came up to us in the middle of segwaying into something more then 'making out.' They were flushed red with alcohol and emotion and did not seem pleased by my hand on their partner's posterior in the slightest."

Jim cackled.

"It was the first time I used a Vulcan nerve-pinch on Earth. The entire situation blew so out of proportion that I was unsure of any other action that would deescalate it. Afterwards I helped to catch the unconscious lover, and then promptly made my exit."

Despite absolutely zero change in expression, Jim could tell Spock was immensely pleased that Jim was grinning appreciatively at the conclusion of the tale. "Promptly made my exit," Jim muttered, "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Spock gives him a genuine expression of indignation, then lets it melt away, and drifts his eyes back down to their hands, the briefest of smiles flashing on his face as Jim squeezes his hands. Spock squeezes back, just barely. Jim is overflowing inside with warmth over the whole infinitesimal gesture.

There's a comfortable silence as Spock lets them adjust so they’re leaning side by side completely again, instead of nearly fully facing each other within their warm cocoon as they had been. They both stare at the heated rocks in silence, hands clutched together, arms and wrists resting alongside each other.

.

"We should attempt to make contact with the Enterprise again. Perhaps the storm has subsided, the warmer temperature would seem to support that theory."

"It's only warmer to you cause I warmed you up," Jim nudges Spock's shoulder with his head, lives for moments like this where Spock is safe and happy and they can just be close without all the Commander and Captain posturing and bad blood reminders of their initial rivalry.

He pulls out a communicator anyway, and starts trying to signal the ship. Spock is right after all, they should try to reestablish contact.

There's moderate interference, but they quickly reach the ship, Uhura's voice reflecting how relieved she is to hear they're okay as she answers him. "And Spock's with you?"

"Yep. We're stationary too. If the storm's died down enough to transport us up, we're ready."

"Captain," she replies, her voice playful now that she's confirmed the Enterprise did not lose its Captain and First Officer permanently, "Do you think your little vacation down there got us enough information to finish the Antares II survey report?"

"Yes, it did," Spock chimes in from next to Jim.

"Get someone to bring us up, please?" Jim finishes. Uhura chuckles lightheartedly in response, throwing into contrast how previously tense she and the whole ship must've been before, when they didn't know if Spock and him were alive or dead or where to even find the bodies in this white out mega blizzard. "Aye, Captain. Stay in position until we've transported you up. Someone should be doing so momentarily."

.

True to her word, as soon as Jim's grabbed his phaser and made sure he has a hold of everything they brought down (including his first officer), the familiar sensation of being pulled into too many tiny parts and then being reconstructed overwhelms him. The next thing he sees is the Enterprise's transporter room, Scotty at the control panel and Doctor McCoy bouncing on his feet beside him.

Spock's hands are off and out of Jim’s grip like Jim is made of lava, and immediately the two of them stand up from their kneeling positions on the ground. Spock is still overbearingly bundled up in the winter parka with the open sleeping bag hanging from his shoulders like a cape as he stands there. Jim feels a bit warmer then he did in the freezer of a hellscape they'd been trapped on, but the insides of him feel sort of the opposite now that Spock is that fucking regulated foot and a half away from him, like Spock counted the exact distance coworkers can reasonably stand from each other without it being too intimate, and made sure he met such requirements. He is also, Jim notices, shivering again. Not badly, not very much, but definitely shivering in a regular pattern signifying that it has to do with the fact he's quite cold.

"Bones, get Spock to sick bay and make sure he's all right. When I found him he looked like he was suffering from hypothermia or something, he was so cold." Spock looks unreadable, though Jim can tell he's just a tad annoyed that he ended up in sub-par condition at all during his visit to the planet. Regardless, he acquiesces to his Captain's recommendation and demurely trails behind Bones out of the room and towards the examination waiting for him. Bones shouts over his shoulder as they're leaving, "You head over once you're done reclaiming command of the ship, you were exposed to subzero temperatures for a while there too." Jim could swear he also hears, "Without the damn coat on," sliding out of the good doctor's mouth as the door slides shut.

.

A few dozen minutes later Jim is in the Medical facilities, discharged with a clean bill of health by McCoy despite his friends grumbling. "So, how's Spock?"

"See for yourself," McCoy gestures to a bed near the door, where Spock is very unhappily, enough that his mouth is actually just slightly bent downward and his eyebrows are slanted disapprovingly, sitting and regarding the words Doctor M'Benga is speaking to him.

Jim just catches the end of it, "-hypo should help but if you'd like to speed up the recovery process a healing trance certainly wouldn’t hurt."

Spock, mostly, still just looks displeased that he got affected negatively by the planet at all. Like he should have been able to control the circumstances and prevent injury, and he feels guilty that he couldn't. His first officer nods curtly, clenches and unclenches his hands as if judging their level of numbness and warmth, and then he's asking, "Do I need to remain in sick bay while I recover?"

Before M'Benga can even respond, McCoy is breathing down Spock's neck, hovering over the guy and glaring daggers. "Yes, I want you here until your body temperature is inside an acceptable range, since we've never treated a Vulcan with this before I want to make sure if you need a hypo boost I'm here to determine that."

Spock, despite outward appearances of stoic indifference, is somewhat vexed he isn't going to be discharged. Jim can tell, his eyebrows are way too tense to actually be accepting the prescription with grace.

As if to emphasize how aggravated Spock is at his weakened condition and necessary nursing to recovery, he pulls his legs up onto the bed and lays down with the tiniest of unnecessary force, and looks up at the ceiling as if McCoy weren't right beside him. Jim has, quite possibly, the pettiest senior officers of any currently active starship.

Jim locks gazes with M'Benga, who nods silently to affirm that McCoy is correct about Spock's condition and treatment plan, then makes his way back to his own office to presumably file away any related paperwork. Jim moves to stand next to McCoy, who is still huffing and looks like he has half a mind to say some more stuff passive aggressively to Spock but isn't quite sure what exact words yet. Jim touches Bones lightly on the shoulder to get his attention, then silently conveys that he's happy to take over keep-the-patient-prisoner duty, and that he disapproves of stressing out his already sick first officer. Bones, like M'Benga, nods, and retreats over to a shelf of hypos and starts to fiddle around with a few different vials of medicine. Probably trying to figure out preemptively what to give Spock if he needs something else to aid his recovery. Before McCoy fully loses himself in the work, he shouts over to Spock, "Get under the blanket! You're still not warm enough to just lay there!"

And Jim knows Bones is right. Spock isn't wearing the coat, doesn't have the thermal sleeping bag anymore, and Jim could wager the Enterprise that the only reason Spock isn't shivering very obviously anymore is cause the man is mentally self-regulating his shaking by now. Jim sits down on a chair beside the bed and regards Spock as he not-quite-docilely sits back up, pulls the blanket out from underneath himself, and positions it over himself before lying back down. The whole mock-casual process, Spock resolutely stares at only the blanket and then the ceiling again.

Jim chuckles at it towards the end, as Spock is primly and precisely tucking the blanket edges around him - movements not quite as controlled as desired since he's shivering just enough to not have perfect control of his hands yet - and Jim leans over and tucks in the parts closest to himself. Spock looks over to Jim and raises an eyebrow in release of all the frustration he's stewing over McCoy and his own currently amiss body temperature, knowing Jim will let him emote without bringing it up as incessantly as Bones would. Then he lets the brow drop back down, and finally relaxes himself in the bed, his dark hair askew just slightly across the glittery pillowcase.

He's still shivery, barely, but more than enough to irk Jim because Jim is just personally offended by anything that makes Spock uncomfortable and that apparently includes uncontrollable body heat failures, so he reaches across Spock's chest and grips each of his ears for a second to judge exactly how cold they still are. And Spock's about to bitch, and Jim's about to bitch right back because the ears are only lukewarm still, not the searing heat he knows Spock is supposed to feel like, and it's pissing Jim off that Spock is not next to a cozy fire wrapped in piles of heated blankets and Jim's embrace. So they both bite their tongues momentarily, cause they know Bones can hear them and Bones will want to join in on the bickering, and Spock is sick right now - he doesn't need to be extra antagonized. So Jim lets go of the irritatingly too cold ears like he's supposed to, and Spock keeps quiet like he's supposed to, and Bones is still turned around fiddling around with his medicines. Jim leans back again. Spock lets go of the tension he'd adopted in his neck when his Captain touched him. And it goes on like that for almost a minute. They are both stubborn immovable objects waiting for the other one to break so they can plow right on through and win at whatever it is that they’re fighting about this time.

The breaking point is when Jim decides Spock is still too damn cold, that Spock going into some 'healing trance' is not fast enough or adequate enough in his captainly opinion, and egged on by the fact Spock is just lying there with his eyes closed like going into a trance is his only damn plan, and none of that plan even acknowledges the idea that maybe he should cover himself up in a few more warm blankets.

"All Right," Jim says, pushing himself up out of the chair and grabbing two more blankets from a nearby cabinet, then considering it and yanking out a third one. "C'mere," he pulls Spock by an arm until he's sideways and starts tucking two of the blankets over and around him, and then lets go of his baffled first officer's arm and much more gently tucks the last blanket around the top of his head and ears and neck. He'd have just pulled the covers over Spock's head, but he kind of selfishly wants to keep monitoring his first officer's health via ability to look exasperatedly toward his Captain. And, of course, by seeing exactly how shaky Spock is.

Spock is, satisfyingly, frustrated with the arguably unnecessary mother henning of his Captain, and pushes the blanket around his head away as Jim reaches down and starts rubbing at the feet he knows don't have anything but socks on them under the covers, and despite Spock's rather odd stare down at him - as the bastard tosses the blanket around his head onto Jim's now empty chair - Jim does not stop until he feels satisfied those Vulcan toes are at least fucking mildly warmed up.

When he's satisfied, and he really only stops himself short of picking up every single blanket and feeling the skin itself because he just went through all the work of tucking Spock's body in, he finally moves away from the foot of the bed and up to the side again, where Spock is considering him with begrudging surrender. After all, Jim's more right then he is - maybe all this babying is a bit irrational and overbearing, but Spock's the one stewing with the idea he can just recover from sheer will alone, which, wow. Compared to a few extra blankets (since the sick bay ones are so sheer anyway), Spock's idea is criminally illogical. In Jim's expert opinion.

Spock is looking at him like he will, absolutely, smack Jim if the Captain tries to touch his ears again. Which is fair. I mean, it's insubordinate, but this is Spock and the both of them know it's just a matter of choice that determines who is actually in charge. And that choice is controlled only by their own rationales and compromises and battles. In this case, Jim's already agreed with the rationale that Spock is justified in smacking him if he gets too annoying, Spock implicitly can tell Jim has agreed, and so if shit happens no first officer is going to be getting in trouble for it.

Jim lets the third blanket stay where Spock threw it. He glances at Spock's hands as the guy pulls them back into the mass of blankets, and they're still trembling slightly. He's moving slow enough that Jim can, and does, politely move to grab them, and hold them. And he's holding Spock's hands, near Spock's neck and upper chest, just above the blanket. And just like before, planet-side, he's vigorously rubbing them for a few moments until the shaking abates, then he's just inexplicably holding them again, stroking up and down, massaging them. Holding them feels phenomenally relieving, like while he's touching Spock like this he can determine exactly how well or unwell he is, exactly how stressed on not stressed. And he couldn't explain why even if a phaser was held against his head, but somehow Jim knows that when he's holding Spock's hands and stroking them with his own, Spock is doing better.

Spock isn't shaking when Jim embraces Spock's hands in his own, and Jim knows its not because Spock is mentally controlling the body response, but because Jim is holding him. The same way Jim can tell when the guy is pissed or curious or humored or exhausted without Spock ever moving a muscle. Jim can just tell.

Spock can tell too, cause as pissy as he's been since he got to sick bay, he's not yanking his hands away or holding his body rigid. He's expressionless as ever, sure, but he's all melted into the bed and pliant in Jim's hands and he can feel how comfortable Spock is now. It's unspoken but they both just know Jim is right about this.

Spock's lounging in his bundle of blankets, finally, and now when his eyes close Jim thinks it might actually be doing something. Jim sits down on top of the discarded blanket in the chair, hands still wrapped around Spock's and stroking absentmindedly, pleased immensely that they're feeling about the same temperature as his own hands, maybe even a tiny bit warmer, now. Spock's lips aren't so blatantly green anymore either. It's nice, reassuring. Maybe he's in a healing trance now, Kirk muses, squeezing the hands affectionately.

It's quiet in the sick bay, just the sounds of Spock breathing slowly and Jim shuffling his legs leisurely. He looks up and Bones is glancing at him, an indescribable emotion on his face before it's shuffled away - and it's almost funny, Jim thinks, that he can read Spock's not-expressions like they're his own feelings, but he can't immediately tell what Bones is thinking then, even though his best friend is much more emotive in general. Bones tips his head gently at Kirk, now looking grateful that his stubborn Vulcan patient is resting because of him.

Bones gets back to his little project by the cabinet, and Jim lets his eyes roam again, noticing M'Benga watching his Captain and Commander curiously from the doorway of his office. M'Benga isn't as shy with whatever he's thinking as Bones is, because he doesn't hide the curiosity on his face when he realizes Jim's looking back.

The Captain glances down at his first officer one more time, enjoying the warmth that bursts all over his insides when he's like this, holding Spock and knowing Spock is getting better and safe and okay and content. He squeezes Spock's hands one more time before lightly releasing them and letting Spock slip them underneath the covers, his eyes still serenely shut.

Then Jim pushes himself up again, and strolls over to M'Benga and into the office as the doctor follows. It's time to be captain again, and ask the resident Vulcan health expert what the differences are between hypothermic humans and Vulcans, and what the specific medicines do and if he should do anything specifically if he finds himself in some similar dilemma in the future, so he can handle Spock better. So, hopefully, next time, if there is a next time, his first officer won't get fucking frozen solid and get himself benched. Jim needs Spock up and around, healthy and solid and at his side whenever shit might hit the fan. He might ask about other future potential health crises and Vulcan specific precautions he could benefit from knowing. M'Benga closes the door behind them, and they both sit on their respective sides of the desk, and talk.

.

M'Benga is obviously amused by his Captain. Jim is kind of annoyed, but he has been in this office for over twenty minutes grilling the guy with questions that mostly are only answered with 'I don't know' or 'it depends on how it happened' or 'Vulcans go into this healing trance that really does a majority of the work,' and once 'it will work on him but the active ingredient has been known to cause upset stomach and occasionally even ulcers in Vulcans'.

"Captain," M'Benga finally says, trying in futile to wrap up the discussion and restore the peace and solitude of his office. "Mister Spock is half Vulcan and half human and even if I did have all the answers to how a Vulcan reacts to various illnesses, and I don't - they're pretty private about certain things - but even if I did, sir, because of his hybrid status it's not even a sure thing that the knowledge would help in Spock's case. We can't really know that until such a situation happens, and we find out."

M'Benga looks a bit exhausted, and Jim recognizes that. But he also recognizes that he's a little annoyed M'Benga basically said 'the next time Spock gets injured or sick, I'll wing it'. Okay, so that's not exactly what he said, but that's how Jim heard it. But a captain can't throw a hissy fit over something so tiny, especially at a Doctor who did an exemplary job and even tolerated an excess of unnecessary queries. At least, a captain can't throw a hissy fit over anything that small, except to Spock, maybe McCoy if there's some alcohol on hand. And Spock's likely asleep, and McCoy is in the middle of a shift.   

So Jim makes to stand, and M'Benga lets out a breath he probably didn't think Jim would hear. And they awkwardly shuffle so M'Benga can move to open the door for him to leave, and he's eager as hell to get the Captain away from him. But before the door opens, M'Benga's hand still on the switch, the doctor asks,"Do you mind if I ask how long you two have been dating?"

And Jim forgets about the door. "Huh?"

He really has no idea where this random question out of left field came from. Or who the person he's dating is supposed to be. Or if maybe this is a joke on him for wasting so much of M'Benga's time. That last theory is supported by the fact the doctor chuckles when Jim doesn't understand the question.

"So you don't know after all," M'Benga comments after the laughter dies off, smiling amicably at the Captain.

"Know what?" His voice is maybe a little more terse than friendly, but hey, he wants to know what the fuck this is about.

"...Vulcans." M'Benga thinks for a minute, on how to say the rest.

Jim doesn't give him a minute, "You think Spock and I are dating?"

That gets another belly laugh out of M'Benga, who does not in fact respond to Jim's query. "Vulcans kiss with their fingers, their hands." M'Benga smiles at him, trying to look good natured but looking more like a cat who managed to push the vase off the table. "It's probably to do with their touch telepathy. You and, ahem, Mister Spock, were kissing earlier, sir. More specifically, making out, probably, with all that contact and movement." M'Benga has the decency to blush slightly as he says the last part, and that blush is the only reason Kirk actually believes him instead of writing it off as a really bizarre lie to fuck with him.

"Uh. Really. Kiss... with their hands?" Kirk pulls at the bottom of his shirt, straightening it.

M'Benga's blush intensifies. Kirk is certain the guy's telling the truth now, M’Benga's always been too genuine to pull a prank that would require so much commitment. "Um. Yes. They used to do this all the time on Vulcan," M'Benga lifts up both of his own hands, extends two fingers on each hand and touches them to the same fingers on the opposite hand. "And occasionally, they'd do this," M'Benga lifts the other two fingers, in something similar looking to the Vulcan greeting position, then touches his hands together again, moving them around slightly. Then he drops his hands and coughs. "They ah, that particular kind of kiss was considered a bit, um, obscene. Almost no one did that in the hospital. And when they did, it was quite, er, awkward." M'Benga isn't even looking at Jim now, and his mind is faraway back on his residency in Vulcan. "Once I found a nurse in a back room with a laboratory aide like that, they were uh, getting ready to get busy. If you know what I mean." M'Benga laughs again, but it's all to cover his embarrassment. "That was the day I realized Vulcans definitely get aroused too, despite appearances. Ahem."

Jim feels his own cheeks burn, both in empathy with M'Benga and as he thinks back to exactly everything he did to Spock's hands since Spock gained feeling back in them about halfway through their wait in the cozy cave down below. The heat reaches all the way to his ears.

And they'd been talking about - and Jim had - and Spock - how dare Spock not tell him. This is exactly why Spock is a jerk - you think a guy is your friend, but he lets you make out with him through a whole conversation without even mentioning that you're being a lewd buffoon. Only Spock would keep that shit to himself, in equal parts because he'd think Jim would want him to make things a non issue and because he probably enjoys Jim being a complete fool. That's Spock's version of emotional security, Jim being idiotic and assuring Spock of his comparative logic.

Because M'Benga, and himself, are at this point entirely uncomfortable inside their own thoughts and outside at the awkwardness surrounding them, Jim takes the initiative and finally opens the door, smiles at M'Benga like they didn't just have a conversation that knocked him off his metaphorical feet, and shuts the office behind him to leave M'Benga to his suffering in peace.

Bones spares a confused glance at his tomato colored captain, but doesn't waste much more effort on him, because an Engineering ensign stumbles into sick bay looking slightly singed with Nurse Chapel supporting her on one side, and McCoy rushes over to help Chapel get the crew member to a vacant bed.

Kirk lurks around long enough to overhear that the ensign is going to be okay, spares a last look over at his sleeping first officer, then heads to the bridge to work until his Vulcan wakes up from his mini vacation.

.

At two hundred hours, ship time, Jim returns to sick bay and Spock is awake, tapping his fingers against the table beside his bed, glancing over at the computer in the main room like he wants nothing more than to call McCoy and wake him up and order him to declare Spock fit for duty again. Just as Spock's throwing his feet over the side of the bed, probably to do exactly that, Jim paces into the room Spock's in. His first officer pauses instead of jumping up, and sits up straighter, hands mock-casually straightening the blankets around his waist where he'd shoved them haphazardly aside. "Captain."

Kirk wants to laugh. Spock's blue shirt is rumpled and pushed up and his black shirt underneath is also rather wrinkled and it's so unusual a sight on Spock, and the guy is trying to appear all rigidly prim and proper but he's just a groggy Alien man with messy bed head and bangs that aren't lying as straight as usual and no matter how controlled Spock makes his face, those brown eyes are just marginally widened. But Jim doesn't laugh, because Spock's been known to break when he's already not at his optimal and a fucker points out that it's obvious. At least, 'break' in a way Jim can sense, even if the Vulcan can keep the appearance of that under wraps too, usually. "Hey Spock."

He moves the rest of the way toward Spock, who's watching him with a bright newly awakened look the whole way. Jim stands awkwardly a foot and a half in front of his first officer, doesn't say anything, and Spock doesn't say anything either. And it's unbearable, Jim wonders if Spock's doing it on purpose.

"So."

Spock sits up impossibly straighter, his eyes finally relaxing. "I am fully recovered."

"We should probably wait for a doctor to confirm that, Spock."

Spock doesn't have to say anything, the look on his face clearly communicates that he doesn't care much for that idea. But he's still sitting on the bed, so he probably believes Jim is more right about it then himself right now.

"So," Jim says again, fiddling with the sleeve of his yellow shirt, fingers lightly playing with the gold stripes.

"Do you require something, Captain?" Spock says, raising a pointed eyebrow and almost-pursing his lips, tilting his head up toward Jim's gaze.

"I wanted to talk to you, actually, when you were feeling better."

Spock raises his other eyebrow, eyes fully alert again and focused entirely, overbearingly, on Jim.

"Um."

His first officer crosses his arms. "Do you have something important to discuss with me?"

Kirk narrows his eyes, shakes his head at Spock's sour mood. He must still be grouchy from waking up. Mustering up some of that James T. Kirk winning charm, Jim stands up straighter too, crosses his own arms and attempts to appear confident and sure of himself and as nonchalant as possible.

"Not really. I just wanted to ask you something about the stuff we talked about yesterday." Jim's trying desperately to come off casual.

But it's really hard when a stoic Vulcan is staring him down, raking unblinking eyes over him.

"Someone said Vulcans kiss with their hands," might as well just blurt it out. Spock's cheeks flush this lovely shade of dusty green before Spock tenses his body and the color fades. He's looking away now, not at Jim, contemplating the wall and cabinet as if there's absolutely anything worth looking at over there.

Before Spock can say anything either way, Jim continues. "So I was wondering," nonchalant. Sound unbothered and friendly, Jim coached himself,"Was that story you told me actually the most awkward kiss you've ever had?"

Spock is still facing the wall, but his eyes sweep over to Jim's again, considering. He's going to answer me, Jim thinks. Then Jim immediately tenses himself, because he's not sure he can handle Spock actually saying 'kissing you as we talked about kissing'.

But Spock, small mercies, does not immediately say that. "I've had... an unexpectedly large portion of awkward kisses in my life." Spock turns his head toward Jim again, loosening his shoulders and slouching slightly, for all purposes attempting to mirror the tone of Jim's laid back posturing. "I suppose, the most awkward one was when I first met Captain Christopher Pike."

As usual, and really Jim should learn to be more prepared, Spock completely surprises him. And makes him want to laugh hysterically, though he doesn't do it. Because the laughter would half be from shock and half from the fear that just dropped out of his chest. "Pike?" he says quietly, incredulously, instead.

Spock nods, looking equally shocked with himself. "When I first met him, he held out his hand to shake mine - such a traditional human greeting, and I should have been prepared for it since I had been around people who used it frequently for a number of years at that point. But, I was not prepared. He grabbed my hand when I did not immediately reach for his - out of kindness, I imagine, as he later revealed himself as the kind of person who did not subscribe to ignorant notions of Vulcan coldness."

"He grabbed my hand, and shook it vigorously, and I had been so mentally unprepared, my shields had been partially down... I believe I shocked him with the force of it."

"The force of it?" Jim whispered, still kind of in the world of incomprehension.

"I believe... I transmitted extreme feelings of admiration, and shock, and considerable embarrassment, when he grasped my hand. The latter of which, he certainly felt even more strongly as the handshake went on." Spock looked surprised at himself, just-barely smiling in wonder that he was even saying any of this. "We shook hands in front of a class of four hundred and twelve. When Captain Pike let go of my hand, his face was as flushed as I was mortified. It was not... an ideal first impression." Spock let out a dry huff that sounded a lot like a laugh.

"I'll bet," Jim murmured in awe.

Several seconds passed. Jim leaned against the bed, still staring at Spock. Spock returned to the present, eyes soft as they regarded Jim. "I was... very fortunate that Christopher Pike gave me another chance before evaluating the merit of my character," Spock looked at Jim under his lashes, and on anyone else it'd be exaggerated and obvious and a blatant exclamation of bashfulness. But on Spock it was just, subtle. Lovely. Completely and uniquely him. "I am very fortunate too, that you gave me another chance after several unfortunate initial impressions."

Jim smiled at him, "I'm lucky to have you too, Spock."  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone is curious of who Spock is counting as people he's kissed 'romantically' (in a broad sense of the word), they are:
> 
> 1\. T'Pring  
> 2\. The cadet from Apple's Eye  
> 3\. Leila (the woman from This Side of Paradise in Star Trek TOS)  
> 4\. Nyota Uhura  
> 5\. Christopher Pike  
> 6\. James T. Kirk, for the first time, while Spock is answering that very question
> 
> 9/14/17 Update: Now with a short little complementary piece - [Six People Spock Has Kissed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092514).


End file.
